Molly the Actress
by AnnabellArcher
Summary: This is a story from Molly's perspective of an instance in high school. Back when she was in theater.


I remember when I was in high school, I loved theater. Especially acting. Our theater department was small, and I remember thinking about how amazing all of them were. I was always given small parts. People will tell you there's no such thing as small parts, only small actors, but that's hard to believe if you played who I did. One year our school put on a Christmas pageant. I was a donkey. But nevertheless, I loved acting.

Then, one day our drama teacher said we would be putting on a classic, Romeo and Juliet! I was excited, even if I just played Sampson for the entire thing. You don't know who he is? I'm not surprised, he dies in the first scene. But I really wanted to get a better part, so I worked really hard for the audition. Because like I said our our drama department was so small, we auditioned by reading the parts, and she would choose who she thought would be the best. A few days later, we found out who we'd be playing.

"Alright, now let's see. Marcus, you will play Benvolio, um… Sylvia, you have the nurse," This surprised me, I was sure she'd be Juliet, and as the list went on, I anxiously waited for my name. "... and, finally, Molly, you will be our Juliet." She finished with a smile.

Instantly all the other theater kids started congratulating me, and I could only sit there in shock. You would, too, if you suddenly went from a donkey to Juliet.

I was practicing really hard, I wanted it to be perfect, or as close to perfect as you can get when you're me. Acting has always been a bit harder for me than for others, on account of how shy I am. As soon as there's an audience I get nervous and have trouble being whatever character I have to be. I was sure that if I just got my lines down comfortably enough, I would have no serious problems when it came time for my performance.

I thought it was working, at least for my classmates and teacher I had no problems. I would get a few small butterflies before a monologue, but that's to be expected, I suppose.

Things were going great, my friends were telling me that I was doing great, and I felt like I was, too. I told some friends who weren't in theater that I was performing as Juliet, and asked (well, maybe begged a little), for them to come to the show. They said they said the would, but they wouldn't quite meet my eye.

A couple of days before opening night, I was stopped at a water fountain when I heard my name behind me.

"Did you hear that girl what's her name, Molly Hooper's playing Juliet?" It was a couple of boys talking about the play.

"Hm… isn't she that smart chick from Bio?"

"Yeah… yeah that's the one."

"How the hell is she gonna play Juliet? She's so quiet, even her sneezes are silent. She could never act."

All of a sudden, I couldn't move. I'd drunk enough water by then to fill a swimming pool, but I felt paralyzed by the words of these boys.

"I dunno, man. It sure as hell isn't gonna be worth money to see it."

"You got that right."

At this point I felt tears stinging my eyes, releasing all the water I'd just taken in as my feet ran me to the bathroom. I heard the bell ring, meaning I was late to class, Bio, my favorite, but had just been ruined by those two boys. I stayed in the bathroom for that period and the period after, crying until the water from the fountain must by gone five times over, but that did't erase the memory of what I had heard there.

"...How the hell is she gonna play Juliet? … Isn't gonna be worth money to see it" the words rang in my ears long with the bell, releasing me from my last class of the day, and all through theater afterwards.

Suddenly I forgot all my lines, I missed all my cues, I forgot where to go, and I was in tears again by the end of it. The rest of the kids and the teacher had no idea why. I guess they just assumed, whatever was wrong, it would blow over by opening night. They were wrong.

I listened backstage nervously on opening night as the play was introduced and the first scenes were finished. I was nervous. Nothing like the butterflies I'd had before, this was a weight in my stomach that tickled unpleasantly and weighed as much as a tank. I was shaking, ever so slightly as I stepped out onstage. I said my line with as much confidence as I could muster, and risked a quick glance at the audience.

Wow, what an audience. I could count the number of people that showed up in that one quick glance. The number that weren't there for a son or daughter performing on one hand. The number of them that were paying attention… none. I felt the tank in my stomach roll my stomach down until I couldn't feel it anymore. At the scene where Romeo and Juliet meet, and I was supposed to be giddy with excitement, I could barely muster a smile.

After the final scene, the parents clapped enthusiastically, with a few meek golf-claps from those without connection to performers. As I walked away I saw Sylvia's parents handing her flowers, she was still wearing her Nurse getup.

I never did another show.


End file.
